"I have dreamed that I shall see him before I die," she rejoined. It was a castoff of Shari’s from her brief obsession with sewing. It was a gracious gesture, she thought, as he trudged to the Beck’s humble doorstep in his stiff blue polyester uniform. He heard Rollo's stump beat a gentle tattoo on the floor. “I rue the day I ever met you, Sebastianus. Wood's anxiety grew so insupportable, that he seized his hat with the intention of sallying forth in search of them, though he did not know whither to bend his steps, when his departure was arrested by a gentle knock at the door. Her mind invoked her husband, who she imagined lying dead in a ditch somewhere, tortured and killed by brigands or perhaps eaten by creatures like herself, a fate he actually deserved. She pulled her veil down, and he knew that silence was best. I’m anxious, joyfully anxious, like a man when he has found a treasure.
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